Programmed
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: This is a follow up to my story Father Figure, an explanation of why Castle was abducted. Things will make more sense if you read Father Figure first. Castle's brain was filled with information as a child and he needs to learn what and why. As usual, I own nothing. Follow me on Twitter @CheerfulChemist
1. Chapter 1

Programmed

Chapter 1

Standing behind Castle, Kate stroked his hair as he examined her research on Michael Bellows. "Castle are you sure you want to get into this? You've barely had time to recover."

"Kate," Castle insisted, "I'm not going to be recovered until I understand what happened to me and why. I need to solve this as much as you needed to solve your mother's murder."

"All right," Kate agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her chin lightly on his head. "You know I'll help you in any way I can."

"I have to find out what Michael was really doing around 1983," Castle explained. "That's when he did whatever he did to me, and maybe to the other kids. There's almost no information. I have to find the others who were there with me then, maybe even track down Christina again."

"How much do you remember about them?" Kate asked.

Castle shook his head. "Not that much. First names. But they lived in the same building I did. I can start with that, see if anyone still lives there. Since the apartments were rent controlled, someone might have wanted to hang on to them. I can start by knocking on doors."

"Do you want some company?" Kate asked.

Castle covered her hands with his. "Absolutely."

To say that the building in the East Village was run down would have been a compliment. The cement was crumbling. Windows showed cracks and behind a gate, the air shaft was littered with trash. Once it had been secure, requiring a buzzer to unlock the downstairs entrance, but the lock was long gone. Cobwebs occupied corners of the lobby and the locks on most mailboxes were gone. Castle pressed the button to call the elevator, but after a wait of several minutes realized that it was no longer functional. He and Kate took the stairs, creaky and indented from years of traffic.

Castle knocked on the first door on the first floor. There was no answer. Allowing for the chance that the resident might be slow to answer due to disability of some sort, Castle knocked several times and waited for an answer. Finally he moved on to the next. A young woman answered after seeing Kate's badge through the peephole. The apartment had passed to her from her recently deceased grandmother, but she had no knowledge of previous residents. Castle and Kate worked their way from apartment to apartment, floor to floor. Either there was no response or the residents knew nothing of what happened in 1983.

Finally, on the fourth floor, Castle saw a face with an air of familiarity. The man might have been about Castle's age, but the years had taken more of a toll. His face was deeply creased and his hair dull and streaked with gray. He showed no signs of recognition until Castle introduced himself.

"Ricky?" the man asked hesitantly. "Weren't you Ricky Rodgers?"

"I was," Castle affirmed.

"Ricky, I read in the paper that you were missing. That you disappeared on your wedding day. Of course, this is Detective Beckett, your fiancée. I read your books, when the library has them. I've been waiting for Raging Heat. Do you remember me? Jerry Sonnenberg."

"Jerry," Castle repeated with an awkward hug. "I do remember you. We used to play games in Michael's apartment together. Actually, that's what I came to talk about."

"Why?" Jerry inquired, confused.

"The reason I disappeared," Castle explained, "seems to have something that had to do with what we all did back then. I need to find out what and why."

"Ricky," I'd invite you both in," Jerry admitted, his eyes on the floor, "but the water keeps going out, I've been out of here as much as possible. The place is a wreck."

Castle laid a hand on the shoulder of his old friend. "It's fine. Let me take you to lunch. You'd be doing me a favor."

"All right," Jerry agreed.

Castle quickly consulted his phone for a restaurant nearby. He chose one fairly downscale, hoping to make Jerry feel more comfortable. He and Kate slid across the vinyl upholstery on one side of a high walled booth while Jerry took a seat opposite them. The menu was simple, composed mostly of various forms of burgers and fries, but the burgers were moist, the fries crisp, and Kate was able to order a strawberry shake.

"Ricky, I'm not sure how I can help you," Jerry explained after the waitress had retreated.

"Tell me what you remember about the games we played," Castle requested. "When we were playing them, did you see anything or maybe feel anything strange, especially after Michael fed us the cookies he was always baking."

Jerry rotated a french fry in his fingers as he tried to recall a time that had retreated so far into the distance. "I don't remember anything while we were playing," he told Castle. "But sometimes I had weird dreams afterward, come to think of it, especially when I had a lot of those cookies. I think I ate more of them than you did. Our grocery budget was very thin and my mother couldn't buy anything that we didn't absolutely need. Snacks were pretty much out of the question."

"What did you dream about?" Castle asked.

"Numbers," Jerry replied. "There were numbers. Sometimes they were in shapes: squares, rectangles, or circles. The shapes were connected like a giant web. I remember a couple of times I dreamed about a giant spider. Scared the hell out of me. I remember I couldn't play with you guys for a while. I got behind at school and one of the teachers stayed late to tutor me until I caught up."

"Maybe that's why you weren't taken," Castle mused. "You were missing pieces."

"What do you mean taken?" Jerry asked. "Is that why you disappeared? What happened?"

"It doesn't matter," Castle said, trying to be reassuring. Castle and Kate joined hands under the table. "I'm back now. I'm just trying to understand what led up to it."

"Is what I told you of any help?" Jerry asked.

Castle and Kate looked at each other, feeling the wheels turn in each others' minds. Castle nodded. "I think it might be. Can you think of anyone else in the building we could talk to?"

Jerry's already furrowed brow became more so as he thought. "Maybe Mrs. Jenkins. You remember her son Bobby?"

"Yeah," Castle replied, "very good with the guns in the games."

"Maybe not good enough with them in real life," Jerry opined sadly. "Bobby died in Operation Desert Shield. His mother still lives in the building and her apartment is almost like a shrine to Bobby. He's all she talks about. She remembers every moment of his life. She's up in 4C."

Castle thanked Jerry and taking him back to the aging building, assured him that he would talk to Mrs. Jenkins. When Castle knocked on the door of 4C, Kate again had to show her badge through a peephole, but when the door opened, it was on a time warp. Furniture, carpeting, an old style VCR, all screamed the early nineties. The walls were covered with pictures of Bobby, from early boyhood to the a young man proudly decked out in full military gear. Kate and Castle were invited to sit on a well worn but clean couch.

"Mrs. Jenkins," Castle began, "Jerry Sonnenberg suggested we might talk to you about Bobby. He told us how you lost him. I'm so sorry. I don't know if you remember me, I lived in the building in the early eighties. Your son Bobby and I were friends. I was Richard Rodgers then."

Mrs. Jenkins snorted. "Ricky Rodgers, of course I remember you, always spinning wild excuses for why Bobby spent the afternoon playing video games instead of doing his homework."

Beckett hid a smile behind her hand, as Castle sought to continue. "Yes ma'am. I'm sorry. Playing those video games is what we're here to talk about, though. They may have had some strange effects on some of us. Did you ever notice anything different about Bobby after he played them?"

Castle was startled as Mrs. Jenkins asked, "Like brainwashing?"

"Ma'am, why did you ask that?" Kate questioned while Castle recovered.

"The guns, the war play," Mrs. Jenkins answered, tears starting to well in her eyes. "He loved it. I think that's why he wanted to be a soldier. If he hadn't..."

Castle silently handed her his handkerchief, letting Kate continue with the questioning. "Mrs. Jenkins, was there anything you can remember, maybe unexplained behavior, strange dreams, or nightmares?"

Jenkins swiped at her eyes with the linen and nodded. "Yes. Bobby used to scribble little diagrams with numbers in them. When I asked him what they meant, he said nothing, that he was just doodling. Then he had a nightmare, actually he had it several times. A giant number spider was coming after him. Does that make any sense?"

Castle nodded slowly and, with Kate, stood. "Actually it does. Again, I'm so sorry about Bobby, but what you told us may help find out what happened."

"If you do, will you let me know?" Jenkins asked as they turned to leave.

"You'll be my first call," Castle assured her.

* * *

><p>Castle slammed his hands against the steering wheel of his newly replaced car. "Castle?" Kate asked quietly.<p>

"If I hadn't been such a wise ass and helped Bobby to play those games, he might not have died."

"Castle, you have no way of knowing that," Kate comforted. "Boys like guns. Some of us girls like guns too. People become soldiers for all sorts of reasons. His mother was just trying to make sense of his death, but if anyone was responsible, it was Michael Bellows. Did you ever have the kind of dreams Jerry and Bobby had?"

"Kate," Castle responded. "I have vivid dreams. You know that. I always have. Sometimes it's helped me as a writer. But dreams about numbers or number spiders, I don't know. I know I really hate spiders and I can't stand walking through spider webs. I'll try to remember." Castle reached out a hand, enfolding her fingers in his larger ones. "Thanks for being with me on this."

Kate could only respond, "always."


	2. Chapter 2

Programmed

Chapter 2

They dived at him from every side, numbers - moving and spinning. The figures formed before him like a net, catching his thoughts and holding them captive. He tried to back away, but he was caught, the mercilessly sticky strands wrapping his arms and cementing his feet to the ground. Around him was a three dimensional white board, a geometry class gone mad. Circles, squares, rectangles, and triangles appeared, sending out strands to join in a sinister web. The fragmented numbers poured into them, filling them in pairs, as the web expanded ever outward. The whiteboard morphed, becoming a map with proportions monstrously wrong, surrounding him on all sides. Castle flailed against his bonds. He tried to scream but sweet dry crumbs filled his mouth and throat, choking him. He gasped. A voice called from behind the gray curtain falling over his eyes.

"Castle, wake up!"

Castle could feel the hands shaking his shoulders even as the nightmare fought to keep him in place.

"Come on Castle! You're with me! Come out of it!"

Castle stared into the hazel eyes above his. "Kate, I had the dream."

"Power of suggestion?" Kate speculated, "from what you heard yesterday?"

"Maybe," Castled replied, barreling out of bed to reach his laptop in the office beyond, "but I don't think so. The numbers were in pairs, like routing numbers and account numbers, and they were tied to locations. It's all starting to fade already. I need to get down as much as I can remember." Raising his screen, he impatiently waited for his word processor to come up and tapped the keys as fast as he could.

Kate stood behind him, the comforting warmth of her hands on his shoulders penetrating the thin fabric of his t-shirt. "I'm losing it!" Castle cried out in frustration. His typing finally ceased. Kate regarded the contents of his screen. There were numbers, but not long enough to signify either routing numbers or account numbers, and there were places all over globe.

"Castle, we may be able to work with this," Kate encouraged. "Even partial numbers may mean something, especially tied to places. Someone who knows something about banking may be able to figure this out."

Kate could feel the tense muscles of Castle's shoulders relax under her fingers as a smile began to form on his face. "I have a guy."

Castle's thigh touched Kate's beneath the table as his hands cupped his latte in the coffee shop. Across from the couple sat Brian Tilstrom, wunderkind of Wall Street. "Rick, when you said you needed a consult, I thought you were talking about one of your books. You think this has something to do with your abduction?"

"It could be a book eventually, if I ever get it figured out," Castle told him. "I need to know what the numbers mean, if anything."

Brian examined the printout Castle had generated from the notes on his laptop. "Okay," Brian explained, "routing numbers are nine digits and you don't have any complete ones here, but there is a lot we can learn. The first two numbers tell you what kind of institution you are dealing with. Now normally, in the United States, those would be one through twelve for Federal Reserve banks or twenty-one through thirty-two for the various kinds of thrift institutions like savings banks or credit unions. I don't see those here, but some of these are higher, 61-72, which indicates non-bank payment processors. A lot of these numbers look like different systems for non-domestic transactions. That would make sense if they are tied to locations on a map. I can take these and analyze them, to see if they actually match up."

"Please," Castle urged.

"Account numbers are even more complicated, Brian continued. They vary by country and bank. If we nail the locations down, I may may be able to make some sense of them. Now the geometric symbols, I'm sorry, but I don't have a clue."

"Hey," Castle told him, "whatever you can come up with would be great. Thanks."

Kate added her brightest smile, drawing Brian's in return. "I have to go," Brian told them. "I'll text you as soon as I have something."

"Thanks again," Kate added, as Brian rose from his chair.

Kate's cell phone buzzed. "There's a body," she announced as she read a text from Esposito. "Do you want to go to the scene with me?"

Castle shook his head. "You go. I want to see what I can do to track down Christina. She may know a lot more about this. She worked for Marcel for money, not out of loyalty. Maybe if I find her, the threat of going to prison as an accessory to kidnapping will serve as sufficient impetus to get her to flip on him."

"Castle, didn't you say you thought that you were being held in Quebec?" Kate asked.

"She served her purpose," Castle replied. "She may have come back to the U.S. If not, I'll follow her wherever the trail leads."

"Not alone," Kate declared. "Castle, after Paris you promised that you wouldn't do anything like that again without me. I can't lose you again. "

"I won't," Castle promised. "Join the boys, I'll start my research and we can compare notes later. Deal?"

"Deal," Kate agreed.

* * *

><p>"Yo," Esposito greeted Kate as she ducked under the yellow tape across the doorway. "The victim is a white male. He's in pajamas, so no wallet on him, but none in the apartment either. Looks like the lock's been jimmied."<p>

Lanie looked up from where she leaned over the body on a bed. "Where's Castle? Is he all right?"

"He's okay, Lanie," Kate reassured her friend. "He's working on something. What have you got?"

"This guy looks to be in his early eighties," Lanie reported. "No signs of trauma, but he does have a puncture mark. Someone might have broken in and injected him in his sleep. I'll have to run some tests to see what was used. He also has what look like old chemical burns on his fingers. You see those on chemists sometimes."

Ryan returned from searching a desk. "Found some bills, including one for a cell phone. The name on them is Guy Rochet. The address matches. Also, the number on the bill matches with the number on the voice mail on his phone. Probably the name of our vic. I ran a make on Guy Rochet. He's been arrested for producing designer drugs. If it's him, the fingerprints should give us a positive I.D.

"Good," Beckett responded. "Let's get CSU in here and start a canvass to see if anyone saw anything."

Beckett was setting up the murder board at the 12th when she was surprised to see Castle stepping off the elevator. "Reconsidered working on this case, Castle?" she asked.

"No, Castle replied, "I just found some things on Christina's past that I needed..." Castle stopped at the sight of the name on the board. "Guy Rochet," he read, with the French pronunciation. "I saw that name on some letters that I brought to Michael Bellows when I got his mail for him. Also, I think I heard them talking on the phone. At the time I thought it was funny that Michael called someone Gee. Beckett, I think we're on the same case."


	3. Chapter 3

Programmed

Chapter 3

"Castle, that fits," Beckett agreed. "Michael Bellows died right before you disappeared. Cissy saw nothing suspicious but Lanie said there was a possibility it was murder by potassium chloride. Now Lanie finds a puncture on a dead Guy Rochet, who knew Michael Bellows. That would be quite a coincidence."

"Can you ask Lanie look for potassium chloride in Guy Rochet?" Castle asked.

"I'll text her right now," Beckett replied. "What did you want to find out about Christina?"

"I was tracing where her parents went after they left the building, but then I went looking for Christina as an adult and she fell off the map. Considering her alliance with Marcel and her skill at conning me, I was wondering if she was off street because she was in jail."

"I can run her," Beckett told Castle. "What's her last name?"

"Marcus," Castle replied as Beckett went to the computer at her desk.

Beckett gazed at the information appearing on her screen. "She has a juvie record, which is sealed, of course. You're right, Castle. She was quite the little grifter. She was picked up several times by bunco, then it looks like she moved into cybercrime. The feds put her in prison for a couple of years. That might give us some leverage. Kidnapping is a Federal crime. Add that on top of her record and she could go away for a long time as an accessory."

"Is there any information on where she might be now?" Castle asked.

"I can check BMV," Beckett replied, hitting keys. "Yeah, there's an address. She could have been lying, but there is one. Castle, I'm going with you. Until Lanie or Ryan and Esposito come up with something, she's the only lead I have on Guy Rochet's murder."

Castle lightly kissed her hair. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Beckett knocked on the door of the address given by Christina Marcus. The door was answered by an attractive redhead, who gave her name as Clare Bartlett, in a leotard, leg warmers, and character shoes. Beckett flashed her badge and asked for Christina. "She doesn't live here," the redhead replied, "I mean it's her apartment, but I sublet. I'm a gypsy, you know a dancer. I move around a lot so I can't do anything but sublet."

"Do you know where Christina Marcus is?" Beckett asked.

"I can give you the address where I send the rent," Clare offered. "I sent it a couple of days ago."

"Thank you," Beckett replied. "That would be very helpful."

Unsurprisingly, Christina Marcus' checks were sent to a box at a packaging store. The clerk reported that apparently the mail hadn't been picked up in several days, as the box was full. "Would there by any chance be an envelope from a Clare Bartlett in there?" Beckett asked the clerk.

The young man checked and told Beckett that there was. "What do you say to a date, Castle?" Beckett asked. "You, me, and coffee in my car?"

"Why Detective Beckett," Castle replied, "I would be delighted."

"Castle," Beckett said as they shared surveillance of the packaging store, "you haven't told me much about the time when you were being held. We have time. You want to talk about it?"

"Kate," Castle answered, "I wish I could tell you more. I was drugged every day and I don't know what happened or what I said when I was under. I spent the nights working on a way out. I trusted Christina with my plan and she betrayed me."

"But you remember the place where you were held," Beckett persisted. "You'd remember it if you saw it again."

"I remember every detail of the inside," Castle clarified, "But I was never conscious when I was outside. There was a barn where they kept the generator and there were woods. I think it was Quebec because Marcel had a French-Canadian accent and because the bagels were the kind they sell up there. Those were the only solid clues I had. Can we talk about something else?"

"Okay," Beckett agreed, her voice softening. "What do you want to talk about?"

Castle pushed the hair back from her face and stroked her cheek. "Getting married. Those bastards who took me cheated three hundred guests out of a wedding and cheated us out of a lot more. How do we fix that?"

Kate reached for his hand."Castle, if you want, I'll go to City Hall with you today, the hell with the stakeout."

Castle shook his head. "No, we had the fairytale all planned. We worked for it, we earned it. I'm not giving it up. We may not have three hundred guests, but we will have our friends and our family. Alexis will be my best man and your Dad will walk you down the aisle."

Kate laughed. "I'm going to need a new dress. One was ruined by leaking pipes and the other one got covered in mud from the hoses putting out the fire in your car. It was my mother's dress. My father kept it. The cleaners really tried to fix it, but it was hopeless."

"Maybe the third one's the charm," Castle suggested, "or you could get married in black leather and we could ride off on your Harley."

"Castle, I think we can save the leather for... look, there she is! She'll spook if she sees you. Stay here in case she runs. I'll get her." Beckett caught Christina Marcus unaware as she sorted through her mail. With no gentleness, Beckett thrust Christina against the wall of metal boxes and cuffed her, informing her that she was under arrest and begrudgingly informing her of her rights.

As Beckett pushed Christina toward her unit, Christina caught sight of Castle. "Rick! I'm sorry."

"Save it, Christina," Castle told her. "Just save it!"

* * *

><p>Christina sat in interrogation opposite Beckett and agent Harris who had been called in from the FBI. Castle, deemed by both Agent Harris and Captain Gates as too emotionally involved to participate, watched from observation.<p>

"Here are the facts Ms. Marcus," Agent Harris began, radiating square jawed calm and self assurance. "You were an accessory to both a kidnapping and an attempted murder. You may be connected to two other murders as well. Given your previous record, you could spend most of the rest of your life in Federal prison. Your only chance at ever seeing daylight again is to tell us everything you know about Mr. Castle's abduction."

"I don't know anything about any murders, but you have no idea what these people are like," Christina protested. "They have money. They have power. They would take me out in a heartbeat."

"What makes you think they wouldn't anyway?" Beckett asked. "You're a loose end. They don't like loose ends. Michael Bellows is in the ground and we have another loose end on a slab in the morgue. We can protect you, but only if you give us everything you know."

Christina picked nervously at invisible fuzz on her sleeve. "All right, but I don't know that much. Marcel recruited me because I knew Rick," Christina looked at Beckett, "Richard Castle, your fiancé, from when we were kids. He didn't do to me what he did to Rick, because I had mono during the time when we were all playing with the videos and I lost too much time. Rick was the only one who had all the pieces of the information they wanted. I still don't know what that was except that it had something to do with a lot of money. We were at a house a long drive from Montreal, at least two hours. I'm not sure exactly where because they blindfolded me for the trip."

"Does Marcel have a last name?" Beckett asked.

"I'm not sure," Christina answered, "I heard him answer his phone once and say what sounded like Aubert, but I'm not sure if that was him or the person he was talking to."

"What about the other men who were there?" Beckett asked. "The ones that tried to kill Castle?"

"Just first names, Brad and Toby. I didn't talk to them much," Christina admitted.

Beckett tried to connect the final piece. "What do you know about Guy Rochet?"

"How do you know about him?" Christina asked.

Christina blanched as Beckett informed her that Rochet was the loose end in the morgue. "Last time," Beckett told her, "what do you know about Guy Rochet?"

"He made their drugs for them," Christina confessed, her voice quavering, "the ones they gave Rick when the took him and the ones that Michael put in our cookies when when we were kids. If they killed him they're really cleaning house."

"I need to coordinate this investigation with the Canadians," Harris told Beckett, after Christina was taken to holding.

"Agent Harris, you do what you need to do," Beckett told him. "Right now I have a murder that took place right here in New York."

Lanie texted confirmation to Beckett that Guy Rochet had been murdered with an injection of potassium chloride. Kate joined Castle who was still sitting on the desk outside observation, trying to digest what he had heard. Their hands clasped as she sat beside him. "Babe," she promised, "we're going to solve this."


	4. Chapter 4

Programmed

Chapter 4

Castle sat up in bed. "Kate," he mused, "Lanie took my blood for analysis after you found me. Did she ever say anything about the results?"

"It was what you would have expected, Castle, there were some kind of designer drugs to help with your interrogation. Why?"

"I was thinking," Castle said, "if we could look at what chemicals Rochet might have been using to make the drugs, and find out where they were shipped, we might be able to find Rochet's lab. There could be information there."

"It's a shot, Castle," Kate agreed. "We can go see Lanie on the way to the 12th. It's early, did you want breakfast?"

"I'm in the mood for something sweet," Castle told her.

"Oh no," Kate moaned, "not your chocolate mouse chimichangas."

"I wasn't talking about food," Castle murmured, bringing his lips to hers.

Kate and Castle loaded their morning lattes into traveling cups, before leaving to visit Lanie at the morgue. "You're not going to like this, writer man," Lanie told Castle, while handing him the list of drugs found in his blood,"but the person to ask about this isn't me, it's Perlmutter. He's much better at understanding synthetic chemistry than I am. I made it through a course. He actually likes it."

"How about Clark Murray?" Castle asked.

"There's a pathologist's conference in Australia, a big deal and he's doing the keynote. I'm afraid you're going to have to buck up and see Sydney if you want some answers," Lanie informed him sympathetically. "You might try showing up with a cinnamon bagel with some cream cheese. He growls less when he gets one of those in the morning."

"Okay," Castle agreed reluctantly. "Thanks for the culinary tip."

"Thanks Lanie," Beckett chimed in. "I'll call you later about..."

Lanie waved her away. "Okay girl, we'll work it out."

Castle looked at Beckett quizzically, but she offered no information about what her further conversation with Lanie would be about.

Castle and Beckett sought out the nearest purveyor of cinnamon bagels and returned to the morgue. They found Perlmutter seated in his anteroom and Castle handed him their offering. Perlmutter sniffed the bagel appreciatively but regarded Castle with his usual disdain. Beckett thought it might be better if she did the talking.

"We have a list of designer drugs," she explained as Castle handed the sheet to the grumpy pathologist, "we're looking for chemicals that would be used to make them that might be a clue to where the laboratory of the chemist involved is. He's a guest on Dr. Parrish's table and she thinks your knowledge on the subject is superior to hers."

The corners of Perlmutter's mouth turned up a fraction of an inch at the compliment and he studied the list. "Let me ask you a question," he offered, "how old was this chemist?'

"Early eighties," Beckett informed him.

"Why?" Castle asked, instantly wiping even the hint of a smile from Perlmutter's face.

"Because, Mr. Castle," Perlmutter sneered, "younger chemists often tend to use different, less dangerous materials than ones who came up in times when safety wasn't stressed."

"He did have what Lanie said were chemical burns on his fingers," Beckett added.

Perlmutter pointed to the list. "See this. Now to make it, he'd require a powerful solvent. He might use ether."

"The stuff they used to use to put people to sleep?" Castle asked.

"Yes, Mr. Castle," Perlmutter replied with an exasperated sigh. "That ether. There are newer, safer solvents on the market, but they aren't as efficient. You might look for purchases of ether. With its high level of flammability, special transportation certification would be required. Ether's also controlled because it is used for illicit drug production. There would have to be a declaration that it was being used for other purposes, somewhere. There should be records."

"Thank you Perlmutter," Castle said. "You've been surprisingly helpful."

"Mr. Castle," Permutter told him, "next time, I like raisins in my bagels."

Castle nodded. "Understood."

At the 12th, Beckett and Castle searched through Rochet's financials, looking for payments to anyone who might be shipping hazardous chemicals for him. "Here's something, Castle said, "Westport Transport." Castle pulled out his phone. "There's a listing for them. It says anything, from anywhere, anytime."

"Sounds like just what Rochet would have needed," Beckett noted. "Want to pay them a visit?"

Castle and Beckett sat on dingy chairs against a dingy wall in a dingy reception area of Westport Transport. The receptionist, defensively behind a closed sliding glass window, had promised a meeting with the manager. That had been a half hour before. Beckett walked up and tapped on the glass and waved her badge in front of the receptionist's face. "Excuse me, we're still waiting for your manager."

"I'm sorry," the receptionist replied nervously. "I'll page Mr. Burris again. He probably got caught up in some crisis."

"You have a lot of those?" Beckett asked.

"The receptionist looked even more uncomfortable. "They happen."

Finally a tall man, his shiny dome and underarms wet with perspiration, came out to meet them. "Mr. Burris," Kate introduced herself, showing her badge, "I'm Detective Beckett, this is Mr. Castle. We need to ask you some questions about some shipping you did for a Guy Rochet."

"Doesn't sound familiar," Burris responded, pulling nervously at his collar.

"Would you check your records please," Beckett requested. "Our investigation shows that you shipped materials for him several times within the last few months. We need to know where they went. You must have copies of the waybills."

"I'll check," Burris responded hesitantly.

Burris returned a few minutes later with several sheets of thin yellow paper bearing the Westport Transport logo. The waybills listed only "components."

"Not much documentation," Castle commented.

"Look," Burris argued, pulling at his collar again. "We're a little guy. We're competing with the big boys. It's the responsibility of the client to fill out a declaration about their materials. If they don't tell us, we don't ask. That's how we survive. Any information we've got is there."

"Castle," Beckett counseled. "We have an address. That's all we need. Mr. Burris, thank you for your time."

"I'm surprised he didn't ask for a court order," Castle said, as he and Beckett returned to car.

"He probably didn't want to raise any red flags," Beckett opined. "Those guys are clearly operating on the edge of legality at best. I can drop a line to narcotics about a possible link to controlled substances, but that's really not our problem right now. Can you map this address?"

Castle stared at the map on his phone. "St. Albans. There's a lake there that goes right over the Canadian border, south of Montreal."

"Beckett smiled. "The Canadian connection. Road trip?"

"Road trip," Castle agreed. "What about your call to Lanie?" he asked curiously.

Kate just smiled mysteriously. "I'll call her on the way,"

A/N St. Albans was not really intended as a Firefly Easter egg. It really is near a lake that goes over the Canadian border south of Montreal. However if you want to take it that way... (Episode, _The Message_) Ether is used in the manufacture of illicit drugs, but anything about what was given to Castle is completely made up.


	5. Chapter 5

Programmed

Chapter 5

Castle figured that just the drive to St. Albans would take about six hours. Since they were already well into the day, he and Beckett returned to the loft for overnight bags. Beckett also contacted the St. Albans police department to arrange access to the location. As Beckett drove, Castle searched his phone for suitable accommodations. "Beckett, I can't find anything that's a five star in St. Albans, but there's an inn that's four, not too far away."

"Castle, you know the department would never spring for that," Beckett protested. "Gates barely approved the trip."

"The NYPD doesn't have to approve it," Castle replied, "it's on me. This is at least as much about me as it is about solving a murder. Whatever there is to know, I need to know it."

"I know that, Castle," Beckett told him soothingly, "and I think behind the veneer of the tough captain, so does Gates. Go ahead and book the inn." Beckett noted a sign informing drivers of an upcoming rest stop and changed lanes to catch the entrance. "I need to stop for a couple of minutes."

Reaching the rest stop, Castle and Beckett parted ways toward their separate facilities, with Beckett pulling out her phone as she went. From the privacy of the ladies' room, she called Lanie.

"It's about time girl," Lanie responded.

"I just didn't want to talk about this in front of Castle," Beckett said.

"What's so secret about dress shopping?" Lanie asked.

"Nothing, really," Kate explained, "it's just that there's been such a black cloud over our wedding. First it was the venue, then the dress, then - Oh God, Castle being taken. I just don't want to jinx it, you know."

"And writer man would probably laugh at cool logical Detective Beckett saying so," Lanie suggested.

"Exactly," Kate admitted. "So, what is your plan?"

"Actually, I found this woman up in Harlem, her name is Hattie McFarland. She works with four of her daughters and they make the most amazing dresses. She will do it any way you want it, but she has great ideas. If anyone can make the perfect Kate Beckett wedding dress, she can and I don't think my dress will be half bad either."

"Lanie, that sounds perfect," Kate exclaimed. "Can you set up an appointment? Castle and I are on our way to Vermont, almost to Canada, but we should be back tomorrow, so maybe the next day."

"Are you sure you'll have time?" Lanie asked.

"I will make time," Kate declared.

"You've got it," Lanie told her. "You and Castle have some fun up there. You can use it."

"Lanie, this is a working trip. We're looking for Rochet's lab."

"Well if I know that fiancé of yours, he'll find a way to find some fun, if you let him. So let him," Lanie ordered.

"I'll try," Kate agreed. "Call you tomorrow."

Kate pocketed her phone and hurriedly took care of her other needs. She found Castle thoughtfully considering the options in the vending machines. "What do you think, Beckett?" he asked. "M & M's or Reese's Pieces?"

Kate smiled. "I guess since we're following a trail, Reese's Pieces would be appropriate."

Castle brought her to him for a quick kiss. "_E.T_.. Old sci fi movie references. I knew there was a reason I love you."

Fall color blazed on the trees for their drive north and Kate found herself admiring the scenery as she drove, but the sun was long below the horizon when they finally arrived to check in with the local police in St. Albans. With residents numbering only in the thousands, the force was small and their preference was to not attempt a visit to the lab until morning. Kate grudgingly agreed and she and Castle headed for their inn, which was in a very small town right on the shore of the lake. After checking into a room luxuriously but quaintly furnished, complete with handmade quilt and fireplace, they hungrily made their way to the attached restaurant.

The savory aroma of slow cooked beef caught Castle's nostrils and he was pleased to see that it emanated from New England pot roast. He was delighted to find that the wine list featured Beckett's favorite red, especially since she was finished driving for the night and could enjoy it. After the long day, they ate slowly, relaxing in the warmth of the comfort food.

It was late when Castle and Kate finally returned to their room. Castle turned up the flames in the gas log and he and Kate cuddled under the quilt. "Kate," Castle asked, "do you know what kind of a quilt this is called?"

Kate snuggled into his shoulder."Crafts were never really my thing, Castle. What?"

Castle laughed. "I wasn't into quilting either, but I had to research it for a book. This is a wedding ring quilt. Holding you like this, underneath it, I just want to make our wedding happen."

"Castle, it will," Kate reassured him, reaching up tho brush the hair from his face. Their lips met to seal the promise.

* * *

><p>Accompanied by officers from a unit from the St. Albans police department, and bearing a warrant, Kate cautiously approached a small brick building, urging Castle, despite his protective vest, to stay behind her. No one answered either buzzer or knock, so she skillfully picked the lock and opened the door carefully. The assortment of glassware marked the room behind the door as a laboratory. It also appeared to be deserted. The hoods and equipment were all turned off and dust lay on the surfaces of the old style soapstone benches. Gun drawn, Beckett carefully cleared the room and the attached storage areas before signaling Castle to follow. There was nothing old-fashioned about the computer system sitting on a metal desk. The files, however were password protected. Beckett loaded the whole system into the trunk of her car to take to Tory Ellis. Castle examined laboratory notebooks that were kept in a fireproof cabinet. Some bore burns and stains. "Beckett, these are full of notes and formulas. Some of them go back more than thirty years. Here's one from 1983. I have no idea what most of this means, but there's a heading, 'Planting Unconscious Memories.' I think this is about what Michael did to me and the other kids. These are the formulas for the drugs Rochet made to help him do it."<p>

"Castle, we'll take everything back to CSU and see if they can figure it out. Who knows? We might even get some more help from Perlmutter," Beckett teased.

"Not looking forward to that, but I'll track down someplace that puts raisins in their cinnamon bagels just in case," Castle quipped back.

"Hopefully," Beckett continued, "Tory can get something off the computer that will point us in the direction of Rochet's murderer. That is what we're supposed to be here for."

"If there's anyone who can, it's Tory," Castle agreed. "I guess we head back."

"Hey," Castle asked, doing his unsuccessful best to be subtle as he fished for information while Kate guided the car back to New York, "did you ever get your call into Lanie?"

"I did," Kate replied, in no way satisfying Castle's curiosity, "but I need to get back with her today."

"What's going on Kate?" Castle asked, with more than a hint of concern.

"Castle," Kate informed him with a mysterious smile, "there are some things that just have to stay between a bride and her maid of honor."

Castle, searching Kate's face for clues as well as he could from the passenger seat, could see the sparkle in her eye and the warm glow radiating from the red rising in her cheeks. Encouraged, he leaned back in his seat to enjoy the ride.


	6. Chapter 6

Programmed

Chapter 6

Despite eyes closed in sleep, Castle was moving restlessly in his seat beside her as Beckett pulled into the parking lot at the 12th. "Castle," she called, lightly touching his arm, "we're here."

His lashes lifted slowly. "Kate," I was having the dream again."

"The numbers?" Kate asked.

"A few," Castle answered, "but mostly this time it was the shapes. There was one, a triangle, right over St. Albans. Then there was a circle and a square. I think the circle might have been over Montreal, it was really close to St. Albans, then the square was east of that."

"Castle," Kate responded. "While you were gone, when I was looking into Michael Bellows, I looked at the toy company he supposedly sold off. They have a division in Trois Rivières. It's east of Montreal, about a hundred miles away. Could that be your square?"

"Kate, I don't know," Castle answered, his voice rough with frustration. "It could be where the house I was imprisoned in was, it could be both or neither."

"Well let's get the computer to Tory," Kate proposed. "Maybe we'll get some answers."

Castle's phone buzzed with a text from Brian Tilstrom, requesting a meeting.

"Beckett," Castle said, "I need to see Brian, How long do you think it will take Tory to break into Rochet's system?"

"Castle, there's no way to tell. It's almost the end of the day and she may be working on something else. If you can set something up with Brian for tonight, you ought to do it," Kate urged.

Castle arranged a meeting at the loft over a late dinner of conveniently delivered Chinese food, but Brian Tilstrom was not in a mood to eat. "Rick, I don't know where you got the stuff you brought me, but it is big," he explained. The numbers you gave me, they come from all over the world. For many of them I couldn't get much more than an approximate location, but what I did get doesn't look good. The institutions have been associated with laundering money, mostly drug money, but in some cases for terrorists as well. It looks like whoever is involved with this built a network back in the eighties. A lot of it was dormant back then, but is has come to life recently with thousands of transactions, maybe more, and seems to be picking up steam. Whoever these people are, they aren't people you want to know. This is everything I have." Brian pushed a USB drive across the table.

Kate laid her chopsticks on the table, food unwelcome in her suddenly churning stomach. "Castle, these people know they didn't take you out. Your story was all over the papers and the net. They could be coming after you again for whatever they think you know. They took out Bellows and Rochet."

"Kate, both Bellows and Rochet knew way more than I do," Castle comforted his fiancée. "The only ones I've seen are Marcel and his nasty friends and I still don't even know where."

"But you're working to find out," Kate persisted. "What we brought back from Rochet's lab may reveal a lot more and Tory may be able to match it up with whatever is on Brian's drive. We have to bring in some much bigger guns to handle this. Brian it's probably healthier for you if you back away now. Castle and I need to work this out."

Brian was more than willing to comply with Kate's suggestion, leaving her and Castle alone. "Castle," Kate told him, "I'm going to call my contacts at the AG's office. We also need to stay on top of agent Harris to get the Canadians in the game. It's gone beyond finding out what they did to you, we need to shut this down, or shut it down enough to keep you safe."

Castle tried his best to lighten the mood. "Kate, I don't think anyone's going to sneak in here and stick a hypodermic full of potassium chloride in my arm when I'm sleeping next to a cop who sleeps with a gun."

"Babe, I'm serious," Kate told him. "I'm putting a surveillance team on you and wherever you go, I'll be there."

"That should be interesting for the guys trying to use the men's room at the 12th, Castle quipped.

Kate was about to retort when her phone alerted her to a text from Lanie about their appointment in Harlem the next day. "Damn," she muttered under her breath.

"What?" Castle asked.

"Lanie and I have an appointment tomorrow - with a dressmaker. I wanted to keep the dress away from you until the wedding, for luck, but I'm not going to leave you."

"Well if it makes you feel better, you can blindfold me," Castle suggested. "That will be a lot more fun than when the kidnappers did it."

Kate sighed, laying her head on his chest, throwing her arms around him and clinging as if the world would end if she let go.

Beckett began making phone calls as early in the morning as her contacts could be reached. When she finished, she gratefully grabbed the third cup of coffee that Castle had made for her, to bring with her to the 12th. Tory had made a start on the computer system, but so far had nothing to report. Beckett handed her Brian's drive, telling her just that the materials might be related.

With nothing more that could be accomplished at the precinct, Kate and Castle drove to Harlem to meet with Lanie and Hattie McFarland. Hattie's home and workshop were in a refurbished brownstone. Once a slum, the neighborhood had been revitalized and was buzzing with activity. Kate and Lanie exclaimed over an album Hattie provided displaying her work while Castle dutifully kept his distance, checking his mail and tweeting to his fans. Kate exclaimed, when as if hit by lightning, she fell in love with a dress. "This is it! It's a lot like my mother's dress, but better for this time of year with those beautiful sleeves. And that neckline is just perfect, it will cover..." Through her blouse, Kate fingered her scar. "It will cover just enough," she finished.

"All right," Hattie agreed, immediately assuming control. "We need to get your measurements and not through your clothes. Would you like the gentleman to wait in the other room?"

"No," Kate replied. "He stays with me."

"I won't peek," Castle put in wiggling his eyebrows, "at least not until later."

Hattie was just finishing up when Kate could hear a buzz emanating from her pants.. which had been folded on a table. "Castle, could you?" she asked.

Castle retrieved the phone and read the text. "It's Tory," he announced, "she's got something."


	7. Chapter 7

Programmed

Chapter 7

Becket and Castle approached the tech room on a run to meet a ready Tory Ellis. "There was some overlap between what was on Rochet's computer and what was on the drive you gave me," Tory explained. "A few of the numbers are on both as are some of the geometric shapes. Now this," she said bringing up a diagram on the screen, "is from Rochet's computer. This triangle corresponds to the laboratory in St. Albans. There are other triangles throughout the United States and Canada as well as overseas. There are a few circles and all triangles connect to a circle. There are a few squares, the nearest, in Central Quebec in a city called Trois Rivières. Now this," Tory continued bringing up another diagram, "is from your drive. There are a few circles and squares and lots of rectangles. You can see that the circles are main hubs and the squares are minor hubs. Numbers stream from them to the rectangles, which are all over the world and all represent some form of financial institution."

"It all makes sense," Castle said continuing to stare at the screen. "The triangles are drug labs. The squares are some other kind of facility. The circles coordinate everything and send the money out to be laundered at the rectangles. I think I may have been held at the square at Trois Rivières, or nearby. I researched the area after you told me about the location of the toy company division. There are some wooded areas. It was a center for paper production, but that has shrunk considerably with the decline of newspapers. A little cash could have picked up some nice property."

"Castle, that circle that is probably the center of operations in Toronto is more important now," Beckett pointed out. "If we bring that down, the whole operation could fall. We can get the people responsible for Rochet's murder and keep you safe. After that we can check out Trois Rivières." Beckett looked again at the screen. "Thanks Tory.

"So what now?" Castle asked, as he and Beckett took their accustomed positions at her desk.

"We need as much juice as we can get to pull the Canadians in on this. Agent Harris won't cut it. I need to call Villante. We need him to bring in the Attorney General."

"Beckett, Villante fired you," Castle protested.

"Castle, I think he was heavily pressured to do that. He went to that mat for me when I went after Secretary Reid when you were exposed to that toxin. I think he's our best bet."

"Then make the call," Castle agreed doubtfully.

Beckett clasped hands with Castle as she punched the numbers on her phone. Villante was wary as she explained the situation but promised to look into it and get back to her. As she wrote up her case notes, she noticed that Castle was intent on a search on his phone. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Researching property in Trois Rivières," Castle explained. "I'm looking at the houses on satellite maps to see if anything strikes a chord. I'm checking around the abandoned paper mills for isolated large houses with barns and woods."

"Castle, even if you find it, we can't go after it yet," Beckett cautioned.

"I know," Castle told her, "but when we can, I want to be ready. And speaking of being ready, when is your dress going to be done?"

"What? Why?" Kate asked, confused by the sudden change of subject.

Castle's brow furrowed at the thought that she would even need to ask."I was wondering when we can have our wedding."

"Castle, we need a lot more than my dress," Kate reminded him. "We need a venue. It's getting pretty cold for the Hamptons house. We need to redo our list, arrange the food, the flowers."

"Do we?" Castle asked. "We just need room for family and close friends. We won't need that much food and I bet Maddy could do it. Come to think of it, how about Q3? We could buy the place out for a night. I think Maddy would love it. She knew you wanted me long before you were willing to admit it."

Kate laughed. "She did at that. My dress and Lanie's should be ready in about three weeks. I can call Maddy right now."

"Let's do it together," Castle suggested. Kate put the phone on speaker. Maddy, although delighted to hear from them, was swamped handling numerous details before Q3 opened its doors for dinner, but suggested that they join her at her table that night.

Though frustrated from spending what remained of the afternoon waiting for word from the Attorney General's task force, Kate and Castle were happy to share dinner with Maddy Queller. Maddy told them that in honor of the planning of the redux of their wedding, Chef Jennifer Wong would be providing her choices for the best courses and wine pairings.

"So," Maddy inquired, "how are you two doing? Are you all right Rick?"

"I'll be better when Kate and I can finally tie the knot," Castle told her, entwining his fingers with Kate's.

"Look," Maddy told them. "I can't let you buy out a night. We have reservations months in advance. But if you'd consider a daytime wedding, maybe late morning on a Saturday, so we'd have time to reset for dinner, we could do it."

Kate and Castle looked at each other in silent understanding. "When?" Castle asked.

"How about a month from now?" Maddy responded, pulling out her calendar.

"That should work," Kate agreed, mentally crossing her fingers that the case would be resolved enough for the safety of her groom by then.

Maddy's eyes sparkled as her mind plotted out the event. "I figure that your guests can sit at tables, we'll just arrange them so there's an aisle down the center. I can provide hors d'oeuvres to settle everyone down before the ceremony and keep them from getting too tipsy from the toasts. I have some great champagne, and fancy waters for the non-drinkers. We can do a brunch menu, maybe as a buffet, and clear space for a dance floor and for a D.J.. I do have to obey the fire rules though or we could be shut down. How many guests are you thinking about?"

Kate's eyes met with Castle's. He shrugged. "We haven't even done the list yet," Kate said. "We were thinking a lot smaller than last time."

"The way we'll have to move things around, try to keep it to a hundred or less," Maddy suggested. "There's a little wiggle room to that, but it's a safe number. Will that work, Becks?"

Castle squeezed Kate's hand and nodded. "Thanks Maddy," Kate said. "That will be great."

Kate snuggled into Castle's shoulder in the taxi on their way back to the loft. "Castle, are you sure you want to do this so soon? There's so much that needs to be settled about this case, about what happened to you."

Castle pulled her closer. "Kate, those people tried to take my life from me, to take our life together from us. If I let them keep me from finishing what I was driving on that road to do, they win. Whatever happens, I'm not letting them do that.


	8. Chapter 8

Programmed

Chapter 8

Beckett's phone buzzed not long after she and Castle arrived at the 12th. "Castle," she whispered, gazing at the screen, "it's Villante," and activated the speaker.

"Detective Beckett," Villante reported, "I had a discussion about your case with the Attorney General this morning. He informed me that the organization you referred to has been under investigation by the DEA. They have been in contact with their counterparts in the RCMP. The money laundering angle is new to the DEA, but Homeland Security has been aware of it. They'll need any information you have ASAP, but they have been in talks with the office of the Canadian Ministry of Justice. If what you have holds up, the ministry will launch an operation in Toronto."

"Sir, our tech has all the information collated. I can can get her to email you everything," Beckett suggested.

"Detective Beckett, at this point, I don't want to take the chance that the email might be intercepted." Villante cautioned. "Can you fly down to D.C. with your information ASAP? I can get it cleared with your superiors."

"Sir," Beckett proposed. "Castle is more familiar with this organization than I am. I'd like to bring him with me."

"All right, Detective," Villante agreed. "His insight has proved useful in the past. Just get the information down here."

"Wow," Castled commented, "working on a case in D.C. with Villante. I'm getting an uncomfortable sense of dèja vu."

"You'll be all right Castle, just don't get to any cars with deadly toxins in the ventilation system," Beckett joked darkly.

"Roger that," Castle agreed shuddering slightly.

While Beckett had Tory transfer the case information to a drive she could transport to Washington D.C., Castle arranged transportation. Not wanting to risk taking the precious drive past TSA x-rays and scanners, he called a friend with a charter service. As soon as Tory was finished, Beckett and Castle headed for Teeterboro Airport where their pilot and co-pilot were ready and waiting.

* * *

><p>Agent Rachel McCord met them at Stafford Regional Airport in Virginia with a ubiquitous black sedan. Unsure of what would be unfolding next, Castle kept the plane and pilot on standby. After exchanging greetings, McCord was almost silent on the drive to the headquarters of the Attorney General's task force. Castle and Beckett were glad to see that Richmond was still at a station in front of the high tech screens, as he had previously contributed so strongly to saving Castle's life. Beckett handed Richmond their drive with bolstered confidence, and he immediately began to work.<p>

Villante shortly emerged from his office to check on Richmond's progress. "Sir, this fits with everything we know," McCord offered as the information appeared on the screen.

Villante nodded. "I'll put things in motion."

"Sir," Beckett told him, "we'd like to be in on the operation when things go down in Canada. This is related to a murder in my jurisdiction, and also to Castle's abduction."

"I'll have the AG take that up with the RCMP," Villante told her. "They take care of cases like this in Canada. You should return to New York and I'll let you know how the operation is going to go down."

Castle called his pilot and McCord returned Beckett and Castle to the airfield where they had arrived. Beckett sat tensely in her seat for their return flight. "Kate what are you thinking?" Castle asked.

"I hate the bureaucracy. We're dealing with multiple agencies from two countries. Assuming the operation goes off at all, it slows everything down and just makes things more complicated. When Jared Stack first invited me to apply to the AG task force, I thought that there would be a way to cut through that kind of red tape, that if there was a threat that I'd be free to respond. When I got there, I found out it wasn't what he told me at all. Everything was about agencies guarding their own private fiefdoms, even at the expense of justice. I couldn't handle it."

"I know," Castle whispered softly, rotating his thumb over her palm. "That's why you gave the press the leak that got you fired. Still, right now we need power and you reached out to where that power is. Whatever the complications, we'll deal with them and it's better not to be alone in this. Next to taking down Bracken practically by yourself, this should be a piece of cake."

It was late afternoon when Beckett and Castle returned to the 12th. Beckett wrote up as complete a report as she could for Captain Gates, glossing over information gleaned from Castle's dreams. "You do have a talent for getting involved in complicated cases, Detective," Gates commented as she read Beckett's summation, "or Castle pulls you into them."

"Castle didn't pull me into Rochet's murder, sir," Beckett responded. "I'm just following the evidence wherever it leads."

"Just make sure that's all you do," Gate's warned. "I don't need my best homicide detective running around after international conspiracies."

"Yes sir," Beckett agreed.

"Are you ready to knock off for the day?" Castle asked an irritated Beckett when she returned to her desk."

"More than ready," Beckett gritted out.

"We haven't had anything except coffee since breakfast, you want to go out?" Castle asked, hoping to improve her mood.

"Castle, I am really tired and I'm sure you are too. Honestly, I don't think anything is going to come close to what we had with Maddy last night anyway, so can we just pick up some burgers to go at Remy's?"

"Sounds good to me," Castle agreed.

Kate and Castle curled up on the couch with pleasantly greasy paper bags, playing back the recording of the day's _Temptation Lane_. "This is nice," Kate murmured.

"The food, the soap opera, or the cuddling?" Castle asked.

"Yes," Kate replied, "but mostly that the web of evil in the plot on _Temptation Lane_ is even stranger than the one in our case. In a weird way, that's comforting."

"They've got a name for the conspiracy on the show, don't they?" Castle asked.

"Yeah," Kate confirmed. "They're calling it the Proxy Plan. Why?"

"Somehow giving things a name can make them easier to deal with, or at least to talk about," Castle answered. "We should give a name to our web of evil."

"How about The Cookie Conspiracy?" Kate teased.

"No," Castle mused. "That makes me think of blue fur. How about Rochet's Regimen?"

Kate nodded thoughtfully. "That actually makes sense, if he's the one who came up with the drugs."

"So when this episode is over, how about if we put Rochet's Regimen and ourselves to bed for the night?" Castle proposed.

Kate made a show of stretching and yawning, rubbing up against his body. "Deal."


	9. Chapter 9

Programmed

Chapter 9

Beckett got through the next few days with white knuckled determination. Castle was becoming more and more obsessed with finding his prison in Trois Riviéres and there was nothing she could do to move the case along. The bright spot was a call from Hattie McFarland asking her to come for a fitting of the preliminary muslin of her dress.

"Castle, are you up for sitting through a dress fitting?" Kate asked.

"I thought you didn't want me to see you in your dress," Castle responded, confused.

"These are just the preliminaries, not the final product," Kate corrected. Mostly you'll see me in my underwear.

A smirk crossed Castle's face before he quickly suppressed it. "That, I'm always up for."

Kate was surprised that the dress that Hattie had crafted, though not in it's final materials, was essentially complete and though sewn in the thin cheap cotton, still quite beautiful. As she stood through Hattie's thorough checking of fit and marking of the hem length, she was hit by a longing for the real thing. "What do you think, Castle," she asked.

"Huh?" Castle asked, caught in a fantasy of his own.

"Castle, what do you think of the dress?" Kate repeated.

"I think you're amazing in anything," he told her."

"Castle," Kate chided, "really."

"That was really, Kate," Castle replied. "You'd be beautiful in ashes and sackcloth, and I think the dress will be incredible with you in it."

"Castle, you're pretty incredible yourself," Kate returned, wishing she could kiss him, but constrained by pins and a determined dressmaker. She stored away the impulse for later. Her train of thought was broken by a buzz from her phone in the pocket of her pants which Castle was obligingly holding with her other clothes on his lap. "Castle, could you?" she asked.

Castle looked at the displayed text and said only, "Villante."

Kate hurried into her clothes as soon as Hattie released her and scanned through the text on her phone. Villante had sent her the time and the place for a raid on the Rochet Regimen main hub. It was to go down the next morning.

Captain Gates was not at all happy. "Detective Beckett," she intoned, "there is no reason for you to go chasing off to Canada. Any materials relating to the murder of Rochet can certainly be sent to you by the Canadian authorities. However, for some reason, the Attorney General seems to expect you and Mr. Castle to be there. I don't suppose you'd can explain that to me."

"Sir, I don't know," Beckett replied, trying to look as innocent as she could, with Castle doing his best to do the same. "Perhaps it's because our work on the Rochet case brought other criminal activity to light."

Gates' eyes narrowed as she scowled. "Don't think I buy that for a minute. But the commissioner has no wish to offend the Attorney General, so you and Mr. Castle can go. Be advised that the NYPD is not picking up any expenses not directly related to the Rochet murder case."

"Yes sir," Beckett agreed.

"That's all. Get out of here," Gates told them dismissively.

"If we're going to be on site for that raid tomorrow, we should fly in and stay over," Castle suggested as he and Beckett returned to their usual stations at Beckett's desk.

"Castle, you just want another night with me in a hotel," Beckett teased.

"That too," Castle agreed, "but the raid is set for 9:00 A.M.. We could fly in early in the morning, but if we hit weather or even serious traffic from the airport, we could miss seeing things go down."

"You're right, Castle," Beckett agreed. "I don't suppose you have a flight and a hotel in mind?"

"Why Detective Beckett," Castle answered, "I thought you'd never ask. I did do a quick search. We have just enough time to grab our bags from the loft for a first class flight and a limo ride to a five star hotel with a world class chef. All I need to do is confirm."

"What no private plane?" Beckett quipped.

"I tried. My friend is ferrying around a supermodel. What can I say. The man has flawed priorities." Castle replied with a playful grin, "So what do you say, Kate? You want to practice being the wife of a best-selling author? Should I confirm?"

"Seems like I've been practicing that a lot today," Kate observed with a laugh. "Sure, Castle. Go ahead and confirm."

The traffic to Kennedy Airport seemed worse than usual. Though Beckett was able to go through security as a law enforcement officer and Castle had an express pass, they were both more than ready to stretch out in the reclining first class seats with flutes of champagne. "Castle," Beckett asked, "you remember when we did this on the way back from L.A.?"

"When you went there hunting Mike Royce's killer?" Castle queried.

"Yes," Kate confirmed. "You know the letter Lanie found in Royce's pocket, the one he wrote to me?"

"You said it had nothing to do with the case," Castle remembered.

"It didn't," Kate insisted. "It had to do with me - and you."

"Why would Mike write to you about me?" Castle asked in surprise.

"I was re-reading the letter while you slept on that flight. Mike said that you and I had something real and I was fighting it," Kate confessed.

"He was very perceptive," Castle murmured softly.

"He wanted me to get together with you. I almost did that night in the hotel room," Kate confided.

"Why didn't you?" Castle asked. "It had to have been more than obvious that I was willing."

"Well, I was with Josh then and I don't cheat, at least not knowingly," Kate said ruefully thinking of her obliviousness to her marriage to Rogen O'Leary. "But I also knew that being with you would change me, change my life, forever. I wasn't ready for that, not then. Now I can't imagine being with anyone else."

Castle pressed his lips to the palm of her hand. "That's good, because I can't picture being with anyone but you either."


	10. Chapter 10

Programmed

Chapter 10

After a quick trip through customs, who had fortunately been notified of their impending arrival, Kate and Castle found their driver holding up a "Castle" sign. They were quickly led to a spotless white limousine complete with Wi Fi, DVD player, and fully stocked bar. After the champagne on the plane, and needing no electronic amusements, they just settled into the luxuriousness of the rich leather seats and snuggled for the journey to the Ritz Carlton.

The concierge, a member of the network well acquainted with Castle from his book tours, was ready to receive them. The suite was sumptuous, featuring the oversized bed that Castle preferred and a tub that could easily accommodate Kate's bubble baths. The couple quickly unpacked the small amount of luggage they had brought and went in search of the restaurant where Castle had earlier arranged a reservation. Castle urged Kate to try the tasting menu, providing small portions of multiple items, hoping that the exploration of the savory tastes and textures would serve as a distraction for both of them to the uncertain events that would come with the morning. Catching bits of delicacies on his fork, he lovingly offered them for her delight. He smiled as Kate closed her eyes to savor the richness of a proffered tidbit on her tongue, as their fingers linked under the table. Their fingers entwined again as they returned to the room, to rest in each others' arms for the work ahead.

The staging area for the raid was blocks away, so as to be out of sight. Unfamiliar with Canadian law enforcement, Beckett was unsure of what procedures would be followed, but met the contact Villante had given her. The RCMP official was unfailingly polite, but strongly implied that he would prefer that she stay out of the way. Both Beckett and Castle were willing to agree to that until the breach was made, but neither was willing to let any piece of evidence escape their grasp.

The Canadian force was met not by men with guns, but rather a large room full of men and women behind computer screens who willingly raised their hands in surrender. Offices contained several men, obviously in charge, who also surrendered without a fight. If they were committing murders, it was likely that they were doing so by remote control. The volume of available data was daunting, with multiple servers in a carefully cooled room. "Castle," Beckett exclaimed, discouraged, "it's going to take forever to find what we need in all of this."

"Maybe not," Castle suggested, indicating a back room, where a display occupied most of a wall. "Beckett, look at the diagram. It's like what we've seen before with the connections of the Rochet Regimen and look here, he said touching a shape on the screen, "it displays addresses. These are the locations of all their installations. He searched to the right of the hub in which they stood. He touched a square, triggering the display of an address in Trois Rivières. "Beckett," he exclaimed excitedly, "this matches the address of one of the houses on my list of places I might have been held. I need to go there and find out."

"We need to go there, Castle," Beckett corrected "and we'll need someone local with us. We can present this to the RCMP commander and see what he says. But without a direct connection to Rochet's murder, Gates will never sanction it."

"Then we'll find one," Castle declared. "Rochet made the drugs used on me. There were samples in his lab. If there are traces left in that house, the whole thing ties together."

"And if not?" Beckett asked.

"There will be," Castle assured her.

Beckett could see Castle's muscles tense as they approached the house, backed up by both the RCMP and local police. They all wore protective vests and except for Castle, were armed. The clunking of the diesel generator in the barn could be heard, indicating that power was still being supplied to the house, and a black SUV could be seen through the gap between the barn doors. Castle closed his eyes to picture the layout of the rooms inside. If Marcel was there, he would probably be towards the back, whereas unless helping Marcel, Brad and Toby would usually be somewhere near the kitchen. Castle had observed that they took great pleasure in stuffing their faces whenever possible. The group cautiously approached with guns drawn.

Unlike the workers at the hub, Toby and Brad, perhaps afraid of what would happen to them if they did, were not going down without a fight. As the doors to the house were breached, they grabbed for their guns. "You're supposed to be dead!" Brad yelled, squeezing off a shot as he spotted Castle. Missing Castle's vest the shot penetrated his thigh, and he went down.

"No!" Beckett screamed in rage, returning fire. Brad collapsed, as Beckett's bullet hit in the chest. Toby dropped his gun and knelt with his hands up. Beckett leaned over Castle, putting pressure on the wound with her bare hands, as medical help was called in by the local police. RCMP outside the house caught Marcel trying to make it from a back door to the SUV in the barn.

With the bleeding staunched and Castle's wound temporarily bandaged, the RCMP presented Marcel to Castle for identification. Castle's eyes blazed as he confirmed the identity of his captor. Marcel was led away in cuffs. "Castle, you need to go to the hospital," Beckett insisted.

Castle refused. "Not until I see that room and find what that jackhole gave me." With his arm around her shoulders and her arm around his waist, Beckett supported him as he faced the chair and started opening the drawers where Marcel had kept the tools of his trade. They were all there: the ampules, tourniquets, and hypodermics that Castle had endured daily as information was forced from his brain. Castle swayed on unsteady legs., but refused to sit in the chair in Marcel's interrogation room.

"Let's go, Castle," Beckett coaxed, guiding him out of the room. "You found what you needed to find." She led him to a waiting ambulance and held his hand as lying on a gurney, he was finally taken to the hospital.

After his release by the hospital and a mercifully short flight back to New York, Castle was glad to limp his way to the bed he shared with Kate. Pulling off his shoes, Kate tucked a comforter around him. "Can I get you something?" she asked.

"No," Castle answered, "just come up here next to me for awhile."

"You sure you don't need another painkiller?" Kate persisted.

Castle shook his head and patted the bed next to him. "You're all the painkiller I need."

Kate climbed onto the bed next to him, putting her head on his shoulder. "Castle, maybe we should postpone the wedding, give you more time to heal."

"Kate," Castle insisted, "if I have to crawl down that aisle or have Maddy's waiters put me on a serving cart, we are getting married. That's the only way I'm going to heal, providing you're with me."

Kate brushed the hair back from his forehead and gently kissed his lips. "Always."


	11. Chapter 11

Programmed

Chapter 11

As the NYPD was still waiting on data from the Canadians on the Rochet murder and in view of the wounding of her fiancé, Gates granted Beckett limited leave. Greatly relieved to keep Castle at her side until totally convinced that the threat to him was gone, Beckett sat on the bed next to him, going over the list of wedding guests. "Castle, do we really have to invite Alex Conrad?"

"I thought you liked him," Castle questioned, his voice tight with jealousy. "You certainly seemed to when he was picking your brains for his book."

Kate laughed. "I was just trying to drive you crazy, and admit it, I succeeded. But now that he uses Ryan and Esposito as muses it's a little creepy."

"Consider him scratched," Castle agreed. "So where does that leave us? We have your family, my family, the people we work with at the precinct, and my poker buddies. That gives us just under a hundred."

"Did you nail down Judge Markaway to officiate?" Kate asked.

"Yeah, he'll have to miss his tee time, but he's willing to make the sacrifice. He says he doesn't want to see me crying in my scotch at any more games because I win too much when I'm lovelorn," Castle explained.

"That's kind of him," Kate quipped. "Maddy says she's all set. She's got the brunch menu and enough of her staff willing to put in some extra hours. She says Jennifer Wong is going to have a special surprise for... Shhh! Wait, do you hear that? Sound's like someone's breaking in." Beckett grabbed her gun from the nightstand. "Castle, you stay put," she ordered, positioning herself beside the bedroom door as she heard footsteps approaching. A large but nondescript man came through the doorway making his way toward Castle. Beckett cocked her gun with an audible click. "Hold it right there. Hands behind your head." When he didn't comply fast enough for Beckett, the intruder was knocked to the floor with her knee in his back. "Handcuffs, Castle," she demanded.

Castle retrieved Beckett's handcuffs from where they had been stored next to her gun and handed them to her. Beckett applied the cuffs without mercy, cutting into the intruder's flesh. "Who are you?" Castle asked. The man remained stubbornly silent. Beckett searched the man's pockets and held up a syringe for Castle to see. "What do you bet," Castle asked, "that when CSU tests that syringe they'll find potassium chloride."

"I wouldn't take that bet," Beckett answered grimly. "Call the precinct and get some unis over here."

Castle sat awkwardly at the table in interrogation, his wounded leg less than comfortable against the hardness of the institutional chair. But he was more than willing to endure his discomfort to get some answers. Beckett sat hard-eyed beside him, opposite their prisoner, whom fingerprints from a juvenile crime spree had identified as Sean McGee. "So Sean," she began, "why did you want to murder Castle?"

"I want my lawyer," Sean requested with a smirk.

"Sure Sean," Beckett agreed. "But good luck with that. Your buddies in Canada, they can't help you. The network is down. The accounts are frozen. You're on your own."

Sean cleared his throat nervously. "I want to call him, now."

"Be my guest," Beckett said, handing him his cell phone, now in an evidence bag, its contents having been checked by Tory Ellis.

"I need privacy," Sean demanded.

"Fine," Beckett agreed, making a show of turning off the microphone, and helping Castle to his feet. "We'll be outside."

Beckett and Castle watched through the mirror as Sean tried, and as was apparent from the expression on his face, vainly, to reach his attorney. He appeared to unsuccessfully try several other calls before sitting with his face in his hands. Beckett's eyes glowed in satisfaction. "I think he's ready now, Castle."

Re-entering interrogation, Castle and Beckett retook their seats. "Ready to try again now, Sean?" Beckett asked. "We have you for attempted murder. When we finish investigating the murder of Guy Rochet, we'll probably have you for a lot more. Right now your only hope is to give us everything you know about the people you've been working for. Your clock is ticking. We've already seized the records from your bosses and they and their lapdogs are in custody. If you give us information that we already have, any deal is off the table. So I'll ask you again, why were you trying to kill Castle?"

Sean looked at Castle. "Nothing personal. I was just told that you had too much information."

"And when were you told this?" Beckett asked.

"A few days ago," Sean replied. "I haven't had any communication since then."

Castle and Beckett looked at each other, comforted in the knowledge that he attack on Castle had been ordered before the raids. Beckett pushed legal pad toward Sean. "Start writing," she ordered, "names, contacts, everything you know about the organization that employs you."

"You think we can actually get him for killing Rochet?" Castle asked when McGee had finally been taken to holding."

"I think we can, Castle. Even if the records from the hub in Canada don't show the Rochet Regimen ordering the killing, Lanie got some DNA off the body. She didn't have a match then. They didn't take DNA back when he was arrested as a kid, but she might have a match now. I hope we can get him for Michael Bellows too, then we'd know only one person has been sweeping up after the Rochet Regimen. Whether we can do that or not depends on what comes out of the records at the hub."

"I'd feel a lot more confident if Tory was working on that," Castle confided.

"I would too," Beckett confessed, "but the guys from the RCMP tell me that they have some great techs, so we'll just have to wait and see. You've had a long day for someone who was supposed to be in bed resting," Beckett noted as she observed Castle trying to rub the pain out of his leg.

"You've had a long day for someone who was supposed to be taking some time off," Castle responded. "Home?"

"Home," Kate repeated. Arms around each others' waists, they headed for the elevator.


	12. Chapter 12

Programmed

Chapter 12

Kate brought breakfast on a tray. "Wow!" Castle exclaimed. "I could get used to this."

"Don't," Kate cautioned. "I'm only off until we get the report back from the Canadians and my contact at the RCMP tells me that should be in a couple of days. The doctor said you should be moving around more easily by then. We can both be back at the precinct."

"So how do you want to fill our time until then?" Castle asked.

"Maddy wanted to meet to go over her final plans, how the tables would be arranged, where the dance floor and D.J. would be. She said the morning would be best, either today or tomorrow. Do you feel up to going today?"

The corners of Castle's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Wading through seating plans could be more painful than sitting through the interrogation of someone who tried to kill me, but I think I can manage. Let's aim for this morning."

* * *

><p>"Rick what happened?" Maddy asked, noticing Rick's limp.<p>

"Pulled a muscle," Castle lied as Kate looked at him in surprise. She had fully expected him to regale Maddy with a tale of a desperate gun battle. When Castle lowered his lids and shook his head slightly, she let it pass.

"Becks," Maddy proclaimed enthusiastically, "I have everything ready for you to look at." Maddy led them to a table in her office. "Rick sit, please. You too Becks. Here," Maddy told them, unfolding a large sheet of paper, "is the placement of the tables. We have thirteen. Each one can seat eight people so we'll still have a few open seats just in case. I hope you don't think thirteen is unlucky."

"Are you kidding?" Castle exclaimed. "It's one of the more successful horror franchises around. I love it!"

"Okay then," Maddy continued. "There are six on one side of the aisle and seven on the other. This table up front is for the wedding party We'll have a portable dance floor, and it and the D.J. will go on the side with fewer tables. The buffet and the bar go along the other side. We'll have servers to staff the buffet, pick up used dishes, and help anyone with special requests. My chief bartender will be there too and he should be able to handle anything else you need. Jennifer will be supervising in the kitchen, but my pastry chef is making the cake. This is her sketch. The bottom tier is mocha, the middle tier is vanilla and the top tier is cherry."

Gazing at the fairytale cake, Kate could feel moisture filling her eyes. "It's beautiful, Maddy. Just perfect."

Castle reached for Kate's hand as his eyes shone as well. "Thank you Maddy," he said.

Maddy smiled. "Wait 'til you get my bill."

"Whatever it is," Rick assured her, "It will be worth it."

"Castle," Kate asked as they left Q3, "why didn't you tell Maddy you'd been shot?"

"It would have changed the whole tenor of the discussion and it probably would have scared her as well," Castle replied. "More than that, the wedding is our happy place. I don't want to spoil it."

Kate nodded thoughtfully and laid her head on his shoulder. "I understand. You want to go back to the loft and lie down for a while?"

Castle ran his hand over his leg. "No, actually it feels good to be up. Let's just walk for a bit, find something ridiculously unhealthy from a street vendor."

"Sounds good," Kate agreed. "I could go for a hot pretzel."

"Not really unhealthy," Castle observed, "unless you consider the salt content, but there's usually a guy on the corner about three blocks down."

Kate laughed. "Castle, sometimes I think you know where all the food in New York is."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Castle responded. "I work hard to stay current. Actually I have an app for that."

Kate rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything else."

The vendor was exactly where Castle had expected him to be. Kate got her pretzel, complete with extra spicy mustard, and Castle chose a heavily loaded hotdog, the ingredients of which Castle had no desire to know. They continued walking as they ate, enjoying the sounds of the city and rush of people around them until Kate's phone buzzed.

Kate read the text. "It's Lanie," she told Castle, puzzled. "She wants to talk to both of us at the morgue."

* * *

><p>"Hi Kate. How are you doing Writer Man?" Lanie greeted them.<p>

"What's up, Lanie," Kate asked.

"Well first, I wanted to confirm that there was potassium chloride in that syringe you found on that jerk who came after Castle," Lanie explained.

"You could have just texted me with that," Kate observed. "What else?"

"The drugs found in Castle's blood after he was taken," Lanie answered. "I didn't give you a complete list before because there was something CSU couldn't identify. They sent it to a federal lab and the results just came back. It was a variation on a truth drug. It's nothing that has been approved for any purpose in the United States, but one that's been found in some in people who've been captured and held by other countries, mostly in the Asia. The strange thing is, it's always been found in people who were native to those countries and sent to the United States at an early age. They were all naturalized citizens and all had high ranking positions in industrial research of some sort. When they went back to the countries where they were born, either to visit relatives or just out of curiosity, they were abducted and drugged. Then they were ransomed back to their families. They all remembered being questioned, but none of them remember giving any answers that would have been important."

"It sounds like they were being used as unwitting moles," Castle said. "Rochet developed a drug that could be used to for industrial espionage. It was used on me to recover memories about plans for his organization's future operations, that were planted when I was a kid."

"Looks like it, Castle," Lanie agreed.

"The drug you found in me could be used for a lot more than industrial espionage. It could be used to extract any kind of intelligence," Castle realized.

"I suspect that our people know that Castle," Lanie told him. "CSU told me Homeland Security came in and took custody of all the records from Rochet's laboratory. If the information on making the drug was there, it's probably stamped top secret by now."

"If that's where it was, someone from the Rochet Regiment would have retrieved it." Castle theorized. "No, somewhere there was or is another lab making that stuff. We can only hope that when all the records from the hub are deciphered, it will be shut down."

"Writer man," Lanie agreed, "I'm right there with you."


	13. Chapter 13

Programmed

Chapter 13

Though sleepy from the welcome distraction of a Star Wars marathon the night before, Kate roused herself to make morning coffee. Two cups in hand, she came back to the bedroom to find Castle sweaty and tossing restlessly against the pillow. "Castle," she called softly, placing the cups on the nightstand and sitting on the edge of the bed.

A slow lifting of Castle's lashes revealed confusion swimming in the sapphire blue beneath. "Kate?"

"Nightmare again?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," Castle replied muzzily. "If it was, it's gone now. What Lanie said yesterday might have touched it off. That, and waiting to hear from the Canadians." Castle sniffed the air appreciatively and pulled himself up against the headboard. "Is that coffee?"

Kate handed him a cup. "I was just bringing it in. With any luck, we should be hearing from the RCMP today. Hopefully after that, we can put that nightmare to rest. How's your leg?"

A smile pushed at the corners of Castle's mouth. "It must be better. I didn't even think about it until you asked. You know, there is something I have been thinking about."

"What?" Kate asked.

"We lost our slot on the island in the Maldives. Where do you want to go for a honeymoon?"

"Wow, Castle," Kate replied. "I'm not sure we can even go anywhere. I took so much time off looking for you and then there's the leave I have now, I don't know if I'll be able to take any more time."

"O - kay," Castle responded slowly. "If Gates won't let you go after the wedding, we can take a trip later, but maybe we can find a way to celebrate while you're on the job."

"Outside of sneaking off to the storage closet," Kate asked, the corners of her mouth twitching, "what did you have in mind?"

"Mother and Alexis are in and out of here and your place is nice, but not the lap of luxury. I could get us a suite at the Four Seasons. We could have room service and an oversized jacuzzi. Whenever we're not actively working on a case we wouldn't have to worry about anything, we could just relax and be together. Then if there's time to go to the theater or whatever else we want to do, we won't even have to find our friendly neighborhood scalper. we'll have a concierge to line it up for us."

"Castle, that sounds really nice," Kate agreed, silently thinking that worse come to worse she could still have a surveillance team and her gun.

"Good," Castle agreed. "Let me know what Gates says about your leave. If she says no, I'll set up plan B."

Kate couldn't help thinking that it might depend more on the report from Canada than on anything Captain Gates said, but in the face of Castle's obvious enthusiasm, she kept that thought to herself.

"So what do we do today to keep you from checking your phone every thirty seconds?" Castle asked, not nearly as fooled as Kate might have hoped. "TV? Movies? TV and Movies? An overpriced breakfast?"

"Castle, I thought you wanted to write today."

"I did," Castle agreed, "but that's not going to distract you."

"It will if you do it out loud," Kate suggested. "Why don't I start breakfast and you start writing. Then you can read it to me."

"As long as you promise not to make fun of me," Castle told her.

Kate gave him a quick kiss. "Done."

Kate laid out platters of eggs, turkey bacon, and fresh fruit on the table. Castle joined her with his laptop. When Castle had gotten far enough into his breakfast to be sure he wouldn't be reading with his mouth full, he began.

_Rook had no idea where Nikki was. She had told him she'd meet him at her apartment for dinner. He'd readied the steaks, made the salad and opened a bottle of Sancerre, but she had never arrived. That had been a week ago. _

_Roach had traced her car using the transponder, but it was found empty in a lot in New Jersey. CSU found blood, but not hers. There was no DNA match in the system, but it was definitely male. Whoever had taken her, she had put up a fight. Raley had scrubbed the footage of every camera in the area while Ochoa started a massive canvass, but turned up nothing._

_Rook put out the word to all his sources. He even tweeted an inquiry to the followers of his romance writer persona. There was no sign of Nikki. Rook stayed at Nikki's place. He had spent most of his time there since she had accepted his ring anyway. He started at every click, every creak, straining for the sound of her footsteps._

_Sleep eluded him. She was out there somewhere, probably in danger and there was nothing he could do. Exhaustion was taking its toll as his head dropped to the rough pillow of his arms on the table he had set for what should have been the dinner where they would plan their wedding. In the twilight between sleep and wakefulness, images spun in his brain: Nikki taking down a thug twice her size, Nikki glowing in candlelight during a brownout, and Nikki in his arms. Even as the noise of the city intruded, Rook squeezed his eyes firmly shut. As long as he didn't open them, Nikki was with him."_

"Castle stop!" Kate exclaimed.

"What's the matter?" Castle asked.

"It's just that I never realized how much you knew, how much you understood how I felt when you were gone," Kate confessed.

"Kate, how could I not know?" Castle asked. "It's how I felt when you were held by Vulcan Simmons. You were gone. You were in danger and I couldn't help you. I know that when I write about Nikki I switch things around, but not in this case. What I wrote doesn't come from my disappearance, it comes from yours. There's no way I could imagine living without you."

Kate reached for his hand. "Castle, there's no way I could imagine living without you either." They leaned over the table, pushing the remains of their meal out of the way. Still too far away, Castle rose, holding Kate tightly in his arms as their lips met.

Kate's phone buzzed. Kate looked at the I.D. on the screen. It was the RCMP.


	14. Chapter 14

Programmed

Chapter 14

Kate and Castle looked at each other as Kate activated the speaker. "Detective Beckett, this is Superintendent Baker of the RCMP."

"Yes Superintendent," Beckett answered. "What can you tell me?"

"Detective Beckett," Baker replied, "I can report that due to the information you and Mr. Castle uncovered, we did locate and raid a number of operations producing exotic drugs. We also froze the flow of funds from the larger organization. However, we also found a listing of two men identified as cleaners. We believe you have one of them in custody, a Sean McGee who tried to attack Mr. Castle."

"That's correct, Superintendent," Beckett confirmed.

"There is a second one, Detective. The records show that he worked under Marcel Aubert, who was captured in the raid in Trois Rivières. Like McGee, he was dispatched to New York and he is listed as back up. He may try to complete McGee's assignment."

"By which you mean killing Castle?" Kate asked grimly, knowing the answer.

"I'm sorry Detective," Baker told her, "But yes."

"Can you send me a name and description?" Beckett asked, wrapping the cloak of her professional demeanor around her heart.

"A name yes," Baker replied. "He is listed as Marc Oberon, but we have no record on him. It may be an alias. I'm sorry. That's all I can tell you."

"Thank you Superintendent," Beckett responded. "I appreciate your efforts."

"Kate," Castle comforted, "it's all right. If he comes after me, he'll be taken down. When I'm not in the precinct you still have a surveillance team on me. I've seen them following us around. And I have my beautiful deadly fiancée and her guns. We'll get him. I'll be fine."

Kate threw her arms around him. She could still feel the bandage on his leg as they held each other. The bullet in his thigh had come despite her presence and that of numerous armed cops. The next one could be fatal. They both knew it and they were trying to pretend they didn't.

Castle took his laptop back to his office and continued to write, silently. Beckett called the precinct to update Captain Gates but found out that the RCMP had already done so.

"Detective," Gates informed her, "I've already put a second team on Mr. Castle. I know you want to protect him and you'll do it whether I sanction it or not."

"Yes sir," Beckett agreed.

"The question," Gates continued, "is whether you can do it better at his residence, at the precinct, or in some kind of safe house."

"Sir," Beckett replied, "As much as I'd love to stow Castle away in a safe place, we have no idea who this guy Marc Oberon really is. We don't know what he looks like or what his MO is. We need to draw him out. The organization clearly knew a lot about Castle to abduct him the way that they did. Oberon will know about the loft. This would be where he'd come."

"Detective, you understand that you're making Mr. Castle a target."

"Sir, he's a target anyway, and if we don't catch Oberon, he could be a target forever. I understand that and so does he."

"Then you stay there with him as long as it takes," Gates replied. "I'm going to put Ryan and Esposito on this too. One of them will be there with you at all times."

"Sir...," Beckett began to protest.

"Detective Beckett," Gates interrupted, "That's the deal."

The days were ticking toward the wedding and if Oberon was around, he had not made his presence known. Castle did his best to keep Ryan and Esposito entertained with marathon games of Halo and a wide assortment of con movies. He also indulged in creative cookery using the hapless detectives as his taste testers.

Beckett asked the surveillance teams to snap pictures of whomever was around the loft, hoping to get some clue from either a recurring observer or something else suspicious. Using Castle's massive touch screen, she studied the photos over and over hoping to find something she missed. She found Castle looking over her shoulder gazing at the screen. He pointed at an image. "Kate, this guy looks familiar."

"From where, Castle?" Beckett asked hopefully.

Castle closed his eyes, trying to place the face. "The vendor where we bought your pretzel after we left Q3, he was there. He ordered a hot dog right after I did. We almost bumped hands reaching for the relish. I remember, he turned his face away and walked off. At the time I thought it might have been obsessive avoidance of physical contact. You see quite a bit of that these days. But it must have been more. He really didn't want me to remember him. The funny thing is, if hadn't pulled back that way, I probably wouldn't have remembered him. It would have just been a quick 'Excuse me.'"

"Castle!" Beckett exclaimed, pulling his face to hers for a kiss, "you found him! It has to be Oberon! Hey Espo!"

Esposito came on a run, one of Castle's latest creations, a crushed candy brownie, still in his hand. "Beckett?"

"Espo, this is the guy," Beckett explained, pointing at the screen. "Castle recognized him. We need to circulate his photo to the surveillance teams and have it run through facial recognition."

"I'm sending it to your phone, now," Castle added.

"On it," Esposito announced, moving away to make his calls.

Kate and Castle stood wrapped in each others' arms, Kate's head against Castle's chest. "We're gonna get this guy, Castle," she whispered. "We're going to do it!"

Facial recognition revealed that the presumed Marc Oberon was also known as Martin Murphy. He had been a suspect in several murders, but there had never been enough evidence to convict. The MO's in the murders had varied from close range shootings to poisonings, making it more difficult to tie him to any crime.

"Interesting guy," Castle said, examining the file. "He'd make a good character. I don't think he can get away with a close range shooting here, but he might try poison."

"How Castle? Your mother is in the Hamptons and Alexis on a ship with her marine biology class. No one can bring food in here except Ryan and Esposito. They buy it themselves and it's never out of their sight."

"Exactly my point," Castle declared proudly. "We start ordering out and see what shows up and with whom. This story is getting better. Will it be deadly deli or toxic Thai?"

"Castle, it's not a story and that's not funny," Beckett protested.

"Kate," Castle coaxed, "if we get this guy, we can go on with our own personal story."

"All right, Castle," Beckett agreed reluctantly. "I'll station someone at our Thai place to follow the delivery guy and you can call for an order."

The Thai food arrived unmolested and though the failure to produce Murphy was disappointing, the meal was delicious. Over the next few days the procedure was repeated with an order from an upscale deli, Chinese food, and finally pizza.

The surveillance team followed the pizza delivery van to the loft, where it had to park some distance away. As the delivery girl walked the rest of the way, the team spotted Murphy walking behind her, reported to Beckett and exited their car to follow. Murphy caught up to her and choking her with arm across her throat, reached into his pocket. "Hold it right there, Murphy!" one of the team shouted, just as Ryan, gun drawn, came flying out the entrance to Castle's building.

"On your knees, Murphy," Ryan ordered. "Hands behind your head." As Murphy slowly knelt, he was cuffed by a member of the surveillance team. Donning gloves, Ryan checked Murphy's pockets, and then pulled out his own cell phone. "We got him, Beckett," Ryan reported, "and he had a syringe and an interesting looking vial in his pocket."

* * *

><p>Beckett, Ryan, and Castle gave the final report to Captain Gates. "The syringe in Murphy's pocket was full of propofol."<p>

"That's the anesthetic that killed Michael Jackson," Gates said.

"That's right," Ryan agreed. "He could have put the delivery girl out immediately. But what was really interesting was the vial in his pocket - pure botulism toxin, like botox only way more deadly. Tiny amounts could have killed anyone who ate the pizza."

"I don't suppose Murphy is claiming he was trying to get rid of wrinkles?" Castle joked.

Beckett smiled. "Somehow I don't think a jury will buy that."

"So," Gates asked Beckett, "now that we can assume there are no more assassins after Mr. Castle, are you two ready to finally get married?"

Beckett tucked her hand in the crook of Castle's elbow. "Yes sir, we certainly are."


	15. Chapter 15

Programmed

Chapter 15

With a feeling of déja vu, Kate took the heirloom earrings Martha handed her and fit them in her ears. "Kate, you look stunning, just stunning," Martha gushed. Kate examined herself in the full length mirror in Q3's luxurious ladies' room. Hattie had done a miraculous job, especially in light of the rushed last minute final fitting. The dress was everything Kate could have wanted. The bodice was high enough so that there was no chance her scar would peek out, yet low enough to pull Castle's eyes. It fit sleekly, highlighting Kate's narrow waist and perfect hips, yet widened enough at the bottom so that she could walk easily down the aisle. There was no train. Kate had too many visions of the last one, covered in mud, as she had wept by Castle's burning car. This dress was a new start to a new life.

Castle stood nervously in Maddy's office as Alexis readjusted his tie. There was no tuxedo this time, just a richly tailored navy suit with a shirt the shade of royal blue that Kate told him brought out the color of his eyes. The tie, carefully chosen by Alexis, picked up the colors of both suit and shirt. Alexis had been freed from riding herd on the wardrobe of Ryan and Esposito. Castle had told them they could wear what they liked, the same instruction as given to any of the guests who asked.

Lanie strode in to the ladies' room sassily, her blue satin swishing. "Kate are you ready? Castle and Alexis are."

Kate breathed a silent sigh of relief. This time her groom was safely here. The wedding was really going to happen. "I'm ready, Lanie," Kate answered.

"I'll tell the D.J. to start the music," Lanie told her, exiting quickly.

"Kate, you'll be beautiful," Martha assured the bride, following Lanie out.

Kate heard the strains of the _Pach__el__bel Canon_ drifting through the door as Lanie returned. "Let's go Kate."

Lanie started slowly down the aisle Maddy's staff had constructed. Kate counted five, took her father's arm, and followed. She could see Judge Markaway looking uncharacteristically distinguished. He caught her eye and nodded his encouragement. And there, standing next to Alexis, was Castle, drawing her like a beacon. Her feet moved of their own accord to reach him.

Finally they stood side by side and Judge Markaway started the ceremony. "We are here to join Katherine and Richard in the bonds of holy matrimony. It has been a long and difficult journey. There was a time when many of us thought it could never happen. Both Katherine and Richard have overcome enormous obstacles to come together for this day and we rejoice with them. The bride and groom have written their own vows and we will hear them now."

Kate began. "Castle, I love you with all my heart. You are my partner, my friend, and my completion. You share my hopes, my dreams, and my very life. We have already pledged to each other that our lives will never be boring, but there is so much more that I must pledge to you now. I pledge that no matter how dark or confusing life becomes, as long as we have each other, I will never lose faith that we can conquer anything. I can never promise to obey, but love and honor are all yours. There is no one with whom I would rather share my life, and to the end, whatever may happen, I will be with you in all things. You are and will ever be my one. Always."

Holding her hands and her eyes, Rick continued. "Kate, much has happened to bring us to this point, things both terrible and wonderful, but the path has brought us inexorably to this moment I've awaited all my life. You are my partner, my love, my life, and the better part of me. I do promise that we will never grow bored with each other, but more importantly, I promise that our love will grow. As the years pass our lives will be richer because we will live them together. I will love you, honor you, and support you in all things. Whatever may happen, for better or for worse, you are and ever will be my one. Always."

"Who gives this woman in marriage?" Markaway queried.

"I do," Jim Beckett announced, tears forming in his eyes.

"Richard Edgar Castle," Markaway asked, "Will you take Katherine Houghton Beckett in marriage, according to the vows you you have pledged before this company?"

"I will," Castle agreed without hesitation.

"Katherine Houghton Beckett, will you take Richard Edgar Castle in marriage according to the vows you have pledged before this company?" Markaway asked.

Joy lit Kate's eyes. "I will."

"Do you have the rings?" Markaway asked. Lanie handed a ring to Kate and Alexis gave one to her father. Kate and Castle nodded.

"Then Richard, repeat after me," Markaway instructed."With this ring, I thee wed." Castle repeated the phrase and his eyes never leaving Kate's, slipped a platinum band on her finger.

"Now," Markaway continued, "Katherine, repeat after me. With this ring, I the wed."

Kate looked at the blue eyes staring so earnestly gazing into hers. "With this ring, I thee wed," she promised, pushing the thick band over his knuckle and stroking it it lightly with the tips of her fingers. As Kate and Castle joined hands, the room and guests retreated. They saw only each other.

Markaway cleared his throat. "Richard Edgar Castle and Katherine Houghton Beckett, with the exchange of vows and rings, in the witness of this company, and by the authority granted to me by the city and state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Kate and Rick came together to rousing, but barely heard applause, so lost were they in the moment. When they could finally bear to release each other, leaving only hands clasped, Markaway addressed the guests. "Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Castle."

Kate and Rick took their seats at the extra large head table with Lanie and Esposito, Ryan and Jenny, Jim Beckett, Judge Markaway, Martha, and Alexis. Alexis raised her glass. "Dad, Kate, I have watched you go through so much. Sometimes I wasn't happy about it. Sometimes I was afraid you wouldn't make it as a couple and sometimes I was terrified you wouldn't make it at all. Seeing you now, I truly believe that love conquers all, and I couldn't be happier for you. A toast to the bride and groom."

Cheers and whistles erupted throughout the room, interrupted by a boom emanating from the kitchen. Guns appeared in the hands of the denizens of the 12th precinct as Kate pushed Rick under the table, yelling for everyone to get down. "Ryan come on!" Esposito yelled, making his way toward the noise, weapon ready, followed by numerous other cops.

"Whoa!" Jennifer Wong exclaimed, at the show of ready steel. "It was just a pressure cooker exploding. The relief valve stuck. Everything's fine."

Ryan made a quick scan of the kitchen, taking in the shreds of meat stuck to the counters and the ceiling. "False alarm," he announced, "everyone stand down."

Slowly the guests returned to their tables. Hearing the first strains of _I__n __M__y __V__eins_ come through the speakers, Rick and Kate took the dance floor. Slowly swaying, they grinned at each other. "Never boring," Rick declared.

Kate pushed back the hair that had fallen over his forehead in the scuffle. "Absolutely, never boring."

Finis

A/N Thank you for the love. I'll be doing another one shot and then most likely starting another multi-chapter story after I see what happens in 702. Have a great Castle Monday!


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